


hope it's nice where you are.

by angelica_barnes



Series: hope it's nice where you are [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, FBI Betty, Falling In Love, Famous Archie Andrews, Famous Jughead Jones, Famous Kevin Keller, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Getting Back Together, Idiots in Love, Important Person Veronica (TM), Love Letters, Love songs, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pining, Popstar Archie, Post-Break Up, Soulmate Tattoos, also i don't watch this show, and i've written a lot of stuff, and reggie, but not an actual soulmate au, cheryl & jughead are bffs cause i said so, cheryl and toni own a record store and rule the world, he's just there to date kevin, i don't know what moose does, jug is ace but you don't need me to tell you that, kevin is an actor, possibly my favorite thing i've ever written, reggie plays football, so my apologies if any characterization is wrong, writer jughead, you can pry that from my cold dead fingers, you'll see wink wink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 20:57:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20315905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelica_barnes/pseuds/angelica_barnes
Summary: "I had this crazy idea that after graduation instead of going to college we'd both move to New York. You'd be a writer and I'd be a musician and we'd just do our own thing, y'know? It's stupid but...""Where are Betty and Veronica in this situation?"(Archie & Jughead, roughly paraphrased)basically i took that line and wrote an extremely long au off of itor,If Jughead had his way, he’d never see Archie Andrews ever again.(This is a lie, but he tries not to dwell on it because the truth seems somehow even more pathetic.)





	hope it's nice where you are.

**Author's Note:**

> title and bolded lyrics taken from "Last Kiss" by Taylor Swift
> 
> PLAYLIST:
> 
> Back To You (WILD)  
Dancing With Your Ghost (Sasha Sloan)  
Speechless (Full) (Naomi Scott)  
90 Days (P!NK ft. Wrabel)  
Adore (Amy Shark)  
Worst Girl (Amy Shark)  
Weekends (Amy Shark)  
Drive You Mad (Amy Shark)  
Deleted (Amy Shark)  
Fuck It (BoTalks ft. Caroline Pennell)  
How Not To (Dan + Shay)  
Good Things Fall Apart (ILLENIUM, Jon Bellion)  
Hold Me While You Wait (Lewis Capaldi)  
I Lost A Friend (FINNEAS)  
Diet Mountain Dew (Lana Del Rey)  
Trying Not To Love You (Nickelback)
> 
> anyway, this fic is my baby (songs and all) and i'm so glad to finally share it with y'all!
> 
> hope you enjoy!!!
> 
> :) :) :) :) :) :) :)

**I still remember the look on your face**

**lit through the darkness at 1:58**

When it finally comes, they’re the only ones who aren’t expecting it. It’s not like they didn’t know how relationships went after high school, but they’d still somehow dared to hope.

Now, standing outside the airport that will take them both to where they want to be, they can only stare at each other in silence.

“So this is it,” Archie says, hollowly, and Jughead forces an empty laugh.

“Yeah,” he rasps. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

_ nine years later… _

**the words that you whispered**

**for just us to know**

Jughead wakes up with his face smushed against his keyboard and fifty new pages of his manuscript now filled only with the letters h, j, and k in a very random order with the occansional space. He sighs and highlights it all, hitting backspace with a yawn.

This is the fifth morning he’s woken up like this.

He checks the calendar on his wall. It’s not very helpful, since he never actually touches it except to change the month, but there’s a single x over July fourth. He takes a sip of the day old coffee in his thermos, scrunches his nose up in disgust, and drags a hand over his face as he pushes himself up and out of the chair.

_ July 4. _

To anyone else it’s just a holiday, meant to celebrate America but really just celebrates the invention of mostly harmless explosions and overcooked meat courtsey of every dad in a Hawaiian shirt, but to Jughead and one other person in the world, it’s the start of another year without each other.

Jughead pulls on some black jeans and boots, a random white T-shirt and a leather jacket, blissfully free of any snakes, and ties a flannel around his waist. He grabs his keys and wallet on the way out the door and drops them in his bag alongside his laptop.

There’s a new buzz in the record store when he arrives, giving a fist bump to Toni at the counter.

“You got ‘em yet?” He asks, careful to keep his face blank and tone nonchalant, but Toni gives him a sympathetic smile anyway.

“Yeah. By the comic books.”

Jughead nods his thanks and heads over to the display of brand new CD’s, thankful that he got here before the store opened and was flooded with screaming teenage girls.

Archie’s hardly changed over the years, just missing the lettermen jacket currently crumpled in the back of Jughead’s overstuffed closet and sporting some new scruff on his jawline, but other than that, he could be the same man that’s in so many of Jughead’s dusty photo albums.

The front of the album has a picture of Archie in black and white, leaning against a brick wall with his hands in his pockets and his head slightly hanging, laughing at something off camera. He wears a simple white V-neck and what Jughead assumes are blue jeans made grey by the filter. He smiles softly at the picture, tracing his finger over the name _ Archie Andrews _in faint pink neon lights.

Below it, the name of the album, _ V & I _ , but Jughead knows better and looks closer, finding the bottom of the _ I _where it swoops upward at the left.

_ V & J _, popstar Archie Andrews’ newest masterpiece, and Jughead hands Toni a twenty as he bustles out the door with a copy safely in his bag and a frown on his face.

“Keep the change.”

**you told me you loved me**

**so why did you go away**

It’s a well known fact that Archie Andrews has basically become the next Ed Sheeran. Same huge success, same acoustic guitar, same mystery surrounding every lyric he sings.

His first album, coming out the fourth of July three years after they’d left Riverdale, was titled _ Late Nights With You _ and hit the top of the Top Ten charts in a mere five days. No one could tell what the songs were about, but they spoke to people, and his next album, _ Forgive Me _, was released exactly a year after the first and received the same fanatic response.

Six years later and every July fourth, without fail, Archie Andrews releases a new album, and to anyone but Jughead it’s a mystery why.

Third, _ Conversations With My Best Friend _.

Fourth, _ Drive-In Expectations _.

Fifth, _ Write My Name _.

And now, _ V & J _, sitting on Jughead’s shelf right next to the others, and he shakes his head as he thinks of what else he could and should be doing right now. Somehow he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop staring at Archie’s name on his shelf, Archie’s heart pouring out of his record as if Jughead could somehow make it drip back into his hands after all this time.

**I do recall now**

**the smell of the rain**

**fresh on the pavement**

Jughead has been staring at his manuscript for fifteen fucking hours now and has written two sentences.

He closes his laptop with a muttered “Fuck it”, knowing it’s useless to try and continue. He can never write on July fourth; at least, not anything he’d ever publish.

He restarts Archie’s record on the player and goes to the kitchen to make himself a new cup of coffee since drinking the day old one (two days now) probably isn’t good for him.

The machine starts up with a whir and he goes through the motions easily, almost blankly, since he’s done this so many times he doesn’t really need to think about it anymore. He picks up the record cover and looks over the back while sipping his coffee.

Most of the song titles are typical for Archie, just vague three or four word sentence fragments that can pass as a description. Jughead remembers Archie saying that he never really got the titles of songs, because the title couldn’t convey even a fraction of the meaning or emotion that the song itself could.

Jughead never said it out loud, but he agrees with him. Song titles are bland, and mostly just let Jughead know which songs he should skip, like the ones that are for Veronica. He can always tell because _ her _ never means anyone else in Archie’s music, except for the one song that he wrote about Grundy, which Jughead doesn’t like to listen to. It makes him angry, and sad, and he has occasionally punched a TV or wall after it played one too many times.

But all the songs that aren’t for Veronica are for Jughead, and he knows it, because Archie has never been with anyone else. And there are easy hints, like the fact that he’s an author, and the moments Archie remembers from their time together that he could never help writing about.

Jughead sips his coffee lazily, leaning against the counter half-hazardly and ignoring the barking of a dog and some chitter chatter of neighbors outside.

He freezes when he eyes sweep over the last song, #14, because it’s different than any other he’s seen before.

_ For J _.

_ V & J _ 2028  \- #14: “For J”

**Verse 1**

Maybe I haven’t been clear enough.

Maybe I’m wrong and we’re not all I thought we were.

I am still waiting, I am still waiting,

In a second I’d exchange you for her!

**Chorus**

She’s not all I want

You’re all I want

She’s not all I need

You’re all I need

I promised forever to the wrong person

Please come back and rescue me

From spending my entire, worthless, hopeless, dragging on by the hours and minutes and seconds I spend without you

My life

In someone else’s gaze

**Verse 2**

Maybe if I’d just picked up the phone.

The minute you got on that flight without me.

I am still waiting, I am still waiting,

In a second for you I would leave!

**Chorus**

She’s not all I want

You’re all I want

She’s not all I need

You’re all I need

I promised forever to the wrong person

Please come back and rescue me

From spending my entire, worthless, hopeless, dragging on by the hours and minutes and seconds I spend without you

My life

In someone else’s gaze

**Bridge**

Maybe I haven’t been clear enough.

Maybe I haven’t said what you need to hear,

Well, I am still trying, I am still trying,

I’ve been trying for all of these years!

**Chorus**

She’s not all I want

You’re all I want

She’s not all I need

You’re all I need

I promised forever to the wrong person

Please come back and rescue me

From spending my entire, worthless, hopeless, dragging on by the hours and minutes and seconds I spend without you

My life

In someone else’s gaze…

**Outro**

You’re all I want.

You’re all I need.

I promise forever to all that we are

And to all that we ever will be.

I will spend my entire, worthless, hopeless, wonderful, endless, meaningful, purposeless existence with…

You…

**I ran off the plane**

**that July ninth**

Jughead scrambles to get to his record player, skipping immediately to the last track, trying to catch his breath as he waits for Archie’s voice with wide eyes.

He starts crying after the first line, _ Maybe I haven’t be clear enough _. The rest of it is just as heartfelt, raw and broken, Archie’s vocals only accompanied by his fingers strumming at the acoustic guitar, and there are a few obvious mistakes that for some reason were never cut out. The sound is echo-y, like it was recorded in a large room where every sound bounced back hollow.

Jughead can’t breathe through the tears collecting in his throat, others blurring his vision as they slip from his eyes. The end of the song has him crumpling to his knees, burying his face in his hands.

_ You’re all I want. You’re all I need. I promise forever to all that we are and to all that we ever will be. I will spend my entire, worthless, hopeless, wonderful, endless, meaningful, purposeless existence with you. _

The record stops, whirring on the player, as Jughead chokes on his sobs and tries in vain to stop crying.

You’d think after all these years he’d know better than to listen to Archie’s public love letters to him, but no. So instead Jughead picks himself up off the floor and wanders into the kitchen, sitting down at the dining room table and writing a private one of his own.

**the beat of your heart**

**it jumps through your shirt**

**I can still feel your arms**

_ Archie, _

_ I can’t begin to tell you how many letters I’ve written before this. One for almost every day since you left, you know, all piled up in stacks taller than you or me in my spare bedroom. I keep the door locked and the key on a chain around my neck, so no one can read them but me. _

_ You told me three years ago that you were letting me go. There were songs about someone else on that album, Archie, and now she’s somewhere in every single one, even though you only ever used to write to me. _

_ If I’d written you back, would you have kept those albums all for me? Would I still be your constant muse, or would she still somehow push her way in? _

_ You named this album for her. For her and me, you’d say if you were here, but I know better. To anyone who isn’t looking that album is titled _ V & I _ , especially since everyone and their brother knows that you married Veronica Lodge a year ago. _

_ I was both relieved and disappointed at not getting an invite. On the one hand, I was angry that you didn’t care enough to think of adding me to your guest list. On the other hand, I knew that any wedding in which you were the groom I would only want an unspoken invite to, because no one actually invites the people getting married to the wedding. _

_ And goddamnit Archie, I always thought that I’d be at your wedding because I’d be the one marrying you. I still do, because if I just had the fucking guts to pick up my damn phone I’d be yours in an instant, and I know you’d leave her just as fast, because you told me you would. _

_ You promised in a song that thousands of girls have taken for themselves, even though it’s for me. _

_ They’re always for me. _

_ Jughead _

**but now I’ll go sit on the floor**

**wearing your clothes**

You’d think Jughead would get tired of sitting alone writing endless manuscripts in his gigantic house that he has no need of. But nope, he barely leaves it, just once a week for groceries and library books, and the occansional trip to his publisher, but that’s about it.

He unlocks the spare bedroom with all the letters and sets the newest one on the pile closest to the door. Then he stares at all of the piles for a minute, the thousands of letters that this stupid boy has made him write.

He leaves as quickly as he came, locking the door behind him and wandering back to the record machine, restarting Archie’s new album for the fifth time that day and heading to the living room, where his feet carry him to his bookshelf, fingers poring over the titles of all the books he’s written.

None of them are anything he wants to read, but maybe he should, because he’s already listened to Archie miss him once today. Reading the fictional stories he’s written about Archie and himself can’t make it hurt all that much more (yeah right, moron).

There are plenty to pick from._ you blinked. _ , a murder mystery that had the critics hailing him the next Agatha Christie. _ Maybe Later _ , a love story told explicitly through letters that the main character sends to his best friend. _ Damned _, a series about an angel who saves a homeless nonbinary kid from the streets.

Jughead finally pulls _ Aces _from the shelf, the first book he ever published, because he wrote it when he and Archie were still together, so there are real moments in there, real things he can remember.

It’s the love story of an asexual kid and his bi best friend over the span of eighteen years, finishing with a hopeful monologue about love surviving through anything, and nobody but him and Archie know what that ending really means.

**all that I know is**

**I don’t know how to be something you miss**

If Jughead had his way, he’d never see Archie Andrews ever again. (This is a lie, but he tries not to dwell on it because the truth seems somehow even more pathetic.)

Unfortunately, Jughead’s never really gotten his way. So he’s rushing out of a Starbucks on his way to his publisher’s when he runs into some idiot whose eyes are glued to his phone and spills coffee all over the both of them.

“Shit!” He shouts, looking up at the idiot so he can chew him out. But as soon as their eyes meet, Jughead’s scalding words die in his throat.

He stares into the hazel eyes of Archie Andrews, the boy whose heart he broke nine years ago and who in turn broke his. By the looks of it, Archie’s just as surprised, the brown seeping through their shirts suddenly forgotten.

“He-hey,” Archie finally manages to stutter, and Jughead opens his mouth to say something, then thinks better of it and closes it again.

Neither moves, still speechless, but the trance breaks as soon as Jughead catches Archie’s eyes drop down to his lips.

“Hey!” He says, all too bright and cheery and awkward, and he winces at his own stupidity before dumping his cup in the trashcan and turning to leave.

“Well, I’ve gotta get going, great seeing you -”

“Juggie.”

Archie’s hand is on his arm and Jughead goes slack in his grip, turning back with his head hung. He figures it’ll be easier to lose Archie again if he just doesn’t look at him.

“Jug. Hey, it’s fine. Can you look at me?”

Jughead shakes his head. Archie sighs, but doesn’t push it, instead pulling Jughead gently along.

“Where are we going?” Jughead asks when they’ve been half a block, heart caught in his throat. “I’ve gotta get to my publisher’s.”

Archie shrugs, finally letting go once he seems to be sure Jughead won’t take off running.

“My house. It’s close and we both need new clothes. I’ll let you go after that, don’t worry.”

Jughead shakes his head, pulling his beanie down over his ears nervously, and falls into step beside Archie, ignoring how their fingers brush every now and then.

“Wasn’t.”

**never thought we’d have a last kiss**

**never imagined we’d end like this**

_ Archie, _

_ It’s been two years since we broke it off at the airport. I haven’t slept well since. I know we said we’d both move on. I know I told you that this wasn’t gonna last, but maybe I was wrong. God, you have no idea how much I want to be wrong. _

_ I’m on my way to New York now. I’m writing this letter at a rest stop while I eat lunch (it’s not Pop’s, but I’m starving), because I have to let you know. I’m coming. I’m coming home to you. _

_ I mean, you said it, right? We’d both move to New York, and you’d be a singer and I’d be a writer. My first manuscript is almost ready for release, and I’ve got a publisher in my contacts. There’s no way you aren’t gonna be a huge star one day, and I want to be the one by your side through it all. _

_ Wait for me, okay? Wait for me, pal. I’m coming. _

_ I’m coming home to you. _

_ Jughead _

**your name, forever the name on my lips**

“We’re still not even close to the same size,” Archie comments with an uneasy laugh as he shuffles through the too big closet for something they could wear.

When Jughead doesn’t respond, Archie turns around, and sees Jughead staring at the pictures of Archie and Veronica on the mantle. His lips are slightly parted, the look in his eyes distant as he traces their faces with his finger.

“Jug,” Archie says, and Jughead shakes himself from it, plastering a smirk on his face and wandering over to Archie at the closet.

“Well, you pick out something for yourself and I’ll just borrow a plain white T-shirt. Not too far off from what I wear every day anyway…”

He trails off as his eyes catch on a pile of flannels in the corner, folded neatly without a single speck of dust. Archie notices where he’s looking and grasps desperately at his arm, but Jughead’s already bent down and picked one up.

“These are mine,” he murmurs, then turns to Archie, whose eyes are wide and scared. “You kept my flannels.”

Archie lets go of Jughead’s arm with a sigh, shrugging and taking the flannel gently from Jughead’s hands.

“Yeah, well. Accidentally packed them the night before and figured it was too late to bring them back.”

Jughead doesn’t say anything, eyes following the flannel as Archie folds it back up and puts it back in the pile. Archie then pulls out another one from close to the middle and hands it to Jughead.

“Here,” he says, voice soft. “This one goes better.”

Jughead takes it without a thank you and shrugs it over his shoulders. Archie walks him to the door wordlessly, and neither mentions that Jughead should probably be taking the rest of the flannels too.

“Um, nice seeing you,” Archie mumbles, and Jughead nods, fidgeting with the strap of his bag.

“I have a pile of your hoodies in my closet,” Jughead says softly, instead of offering the same back. “And your lettermen jacket.”

He swallows as Archie looks up to meet his eyes, worried he’s just blown the second chance he’s got, but Archie’s face breaks out into a grin.

“Call me sometime, ‘kay Jug?” He says, and Jughead can’t help but grin back, nodding as he retreats backwards down the walkway.

“Yeah, Arch. I will.”

**I do remember**

**the swing in your step**

_ Archie, _

_ I’m in New York. It’s amazing here, even though there’s too many people. I love it. _

_ It occurs to me that I don’t actually know where you live. I want to surprise you, but I’m probably gonna have to call you and ask. _

_ Betty called me the other day, you know. Told me she’s an interning detective in the NYPD. I might visit her while I’m here, if I can find out what precinct she’s in. _

_ What about Ronnie? Is she here? I bet she’s gonna be a big shot lawyer, porbably a partner before she’s twenty-five. She’s probably lazing about in her Harvard dorm right now, or Yale, maybe. She’s somewhere amazing, I know it. _

_ What about you? Do you have an agent yet? _

_ My publisher says my book’ll be out sometime next year. It’s called _ Aces _ . In summary, it’s about an asexual girl who falls in love with her guy best friend. In the end, they’re reaching graduation, but I made sure to imply that they’ll make it. Together. _

_ It’s about us, Archie. I wrote about us. _

_ Jughead _

**the life of the party**

**you’re showing off again**

“Juggie!”

Jughead smiles through the phone at Archie’s voice, snuggled in one of Archie’s hoodies on his couch while he scrolls through his manuscript, editing.

“Hey, Arch. What’s up?”

“Nothing, really,” Archie says, and then proceeds to babble on about the upcoming tour for _ V & J _. Jughead listens with a fond smile, fixing a few grammatical errors at the same time.

“Anyway, Ronnie and I -”

Jughead chokes at the mention of Veronica, and Archie goes silent.

“You alright, Jug?”

His voice is soft, shaky, as if he knows what’s caused Jughead’s impromptu coughing fit. Jughead nods, trying to breathe, and then remembers that Archie can’t see him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he rasps. “Sorry, pal, just breathed coffee. Don’t reccommend it.”

Archie lets out a quiet laugh, joy subdued by the sudden tension.

For a few minutes there’s only silence. Neither speaks, afraid to say the wrong thing, until Jughead finally mumbles, “Wanna meet up for coffee sometime? We can catch up?”

Archie’s answer is hesitant, tainted with simmering regret.

“Yeah, Juggie. _ Per Say _, nine tomorrow?” He offers, and then mutters under his breath, “Maybe don’t choke on it this time.”

Jughead laughs, nodding. “Yeah. Sure. See you there.”

“See you there, Jughead,” and something in Jughead’s stomach flutters at the sound of Archie’s voice smiling around his name.

**and I roll my eyes and then**

**you pull me in**

  


_ Archie, _

_ It was nice talking to you today. Sorry I freaked when you brought up Ronnie, I just couldn’t help it. I don’t hate her, I just hate that you’re with her, and all that cliche bullshit. _

_ It just reminds me of that time in New York, when I came to find you. I had my heart set on finding you. I needed to find you. _

_ Well, I got what I needed. I found you, sitting across from a woman who you were laughing with. I’d never seen her before in my life, but you clearly had, with the way you two were so cozy. _

_ I thought that since I hadn’t moved on, maybe you hadn’t either, but that was stupid of me. I should’ve known you’d find someone else, that I’m nothing special. After all, you found and married Ronnie three years ago. Wrote me songs about it, songs that everyone else is too stupid to know are all for the same person. _

_ You really had me fooled back then. Today, too. I actually thought for a second that maybe you were finally coming back to me, after nine years of never looking another person in the eye. _

_ I’m still in love with you. I still get butterflies when I see you, and I still cry when I hear all your songs. Especially your newest one, _ For J _ , which no matter what you end up telling me when I ask I know is for me. _

_ Why write me all those songs, Archie? You fucking said that Ronnie is the wrong person. “I promised forever to the wrong person.” How much more on the nose can you get? I mean, I don’t know, maybe I’m just kidding myself. I’m sad, and angry, and I don’t know what else to do. _

_ See you tomorrow, nine o’clock. Don’t be late this time. _

_ Jughead _

**I’m not much for dancing**

**but for you I did**

“How’re you and Ronnie?” Jughead asks, dreading the answer. He’s not sure why he’s asking in the first place.

Archie looks up with wide eyes, stilling his hand from stirring his coffee. “You know about that?”

Jughead shoots him an unimpressed look.

“I don’t live under a rock, Arch. And you mentioned her in our phone call yesterday.”

Archie shrugs, a guilty look on his face. Jughead is torn between being offended that Archie thinks he’s that fragile and being grateful that Archie knows he’s that fragile.

“Fine, I guess. She’s on a business trip right now, at a U.N. meeting. Betty’s travelling with her, working on a case abroad.”

Jughead cracks a smile.

“That’s our Betty. F.B.I. prodigy at only twenty-seven.”

Archie laughs, shaking his head as he starts stirring his coffee again. “Yeah. I wonder what she’d think of you saying that.”

Jughead shrugs. “Probably something about how I shouldn’t mention a woman’s age.”

Archie chuckles and they lapse into comfortable silence, each focused on their own drinks, stirring and stirring as if that’ll make something appear in the liquid besides clumps of excess sugar.

“I’ve missed you, Juggie,” Archie finally murmurs, and Jughead wills his expression to stay the same, nodding.

“Missed you too.”

**because I love your handshake**

**meeting my father**

When Jughead gets home, he puts Archie’s first album on the record player and calls up Cheryl once it’s playing.

“Hey, Cher.”

“I’m a little busy, Jones. The store has been swamped ever since the Red Paladin’s new album came out.”

Jughead grins.

“I figured. I just thought you’d want to know I saw Archie today.”

There’s the sound of something crashing and Toni’s voice caught in a scream over the other end of the line as Cheryl screeches through the speaker.

“WHAT?!”

Jughead pulls the phone away from his ear with a wince, laughing. Once her voice has faded he presses it back to the side of his head and shrugs.

“Yeah. Actually bumped into him a few days ago, then we called each other sometime later and I just got home from a coffee meet-up with him.”

Cheryl gasps.

“Oh my god, Jughead, did you actually manage to get a _ date _with Archie Andrews after all these years?”

Jughead shakes his head, scuffing his converse on the carpet and ignoring the pit starting to form in his stomach.

“No, Cher,” he says. “He’s married, remember?”

Cheryl scoffs and he hears rustling, then Toni’s voice muttering half-hearted protests to whatever her girlfriend’s doing.

“Like that matters. Are you gonna ask him out?”

Jughead rolls his eyes. “No.”

Cheryl whines. “Jug! You’ve gotta! It’s like fate is practically pushing you together!”

Jughead blinks, then deadpans, “I bumped into him on the street after nine years and spilled coffee on him.”

He can practically hear Cheryl rolling her eyes.

“Whatever. You two are soulmates, I’m sure of it. We’re meeting up for brunch with Kevin on Thursday at that new five star restuarant on fifty-third and you are going to _ tell us everything _, okay?”

Jughead sighs, about to protest when Cheryl finishes, “Great! We’ll see you at eleven a.m. sharp. Dress semi-formal.”

She hangs up before Jughead can manage a single word.

“Ugh,” he says melodramatically, collapsing back onto the couch and dropping an arm across his eyes. “I’m doomed.”

_ Late Nights With You _ 2023  \- #1: “On Your Finger”

**Verse 1**

We drank in poisons of caffeine

Beneath the blazing neon lights

Of that special place that we called ours

For hours on long summer nights

I’d watch you as you wrote worlds

Into thin air like only you could

Thinking that if I had the chance

I’d watch you longer than I should

**Chorus**

You’d hold my hand the whole way home

But only in the dark

And you’d let me kiss my name into your skin

But never on your heart

And I wandered for hours after losing you

Towards our place that you’d claimed for yourself

If you looked really hard, back then and still now,

There’s a ring hidden in the books on my shelf

**Verse 2**

You smoked for one summer while I was away

Then quit when I came back and kissed you

You told me later that you wouldn’t have stopped

If somehow I never had missed you

**Chorus**

You’d hold my hand the whole way home

But only in the dark

And you’d let me kiss my name into your skin

But never on your heart

And I wandered for hours after losing you

Towards our place that you’d claimed for yourself

If you looked really hard, back then and still now,

There’s a ring hidden in the books on my shelf

**Bridge**

I wanted to ask for forever

Even after you’d promised me

That all that we were then would be all we are now

And you’d never love another but me

**Chorus**

You’d hold my hand the whole way home

But only in the dark

And you’d let me kiss my name into your skin

But never on your heart

And I wandered for hours after losing you

Towards our place that you’d claimed for yourself

If you looked really hard, back then and still now,

There’s a ring hidden in your books on my shelf

**Outro**

I can’t help but wonder sometimes,

When I know that I’m alone,

How it’d look sitting on your finger,

But I know I’ll never know.

**I love how you walk with your hands in your pockets**

_ Archie, _

_ I am extremely drunk as I write this, so I apologize if you can’t read any of this. (Ha, like you’ll ever get to.) _

_ You married Veronica Lodge. Today. At 2:15 at the Plaza. _

_ You know, four years ago you wrote me a song called _ On Your Finger _ . You wrote a song about how you were going to propose to me, and how you never got the chance. _

_ I found that ring. It’s beautiful, right up my alley. Silver with a black snake carved into it. I’d try it on whenever you went to the bathroom. I was waiting for you to ask me so I could smother you with kisses while I shouted yes in your ear. _

_ But you never asked me. Not when we graduated, not on the way to the airport. I wished I’d stolen that ring for awhile, so I could have proof that you loved me. Instead I got your songs, and a promise that you would leave Veronica in an instant if I asked. _

_ She doesn’t know about me, does she? Doesn’t know we were ever more than friends. I don’t blame you, you know, even though I kind of hate you for it. _

_ If you ever ask me to marry you, I’ll say yes. Even if we haven’t seen each other in fifty years, if we’re both married to beautiful people with beautiful children, I’ll say yes. I’ll take your hand and follow you anywhere. _

_ So come ask me, Archie. Even though you’ve promised her forever. _

_ Ask me anytime. _

_ Jughead _

**how you’d kiss me when I was**

**in the middle of saying something**

“You guys really don’t need to drag me out for these pointless meet-ups so often,” Jughead complains, no real bite to his tone. “I’m only using you for the free comic books anyway.”

Cheryl rolls her eyes, wrinkling her nose as Jughead shoves an entire dinner roll into his mouth.

“You love us. And consider this your payment for the comic books.”

Jughead raises an eyebrow and swallows the mess of chewed-up bread in his mouth.

“Misery?”

Cheryl rolls her eyes again. Jughead’s half-convinced they’ll roll back into her head one day and not come out. As Cheryl opens her mouth to retort, Toni places a placating hand on her girlfriend’s arm.

Cheryl pouts, but smiles when Toni steals a kiss. Jughead gags and Cheryl shoots him a glare.

“No, the pleasure of my company, obviously. Now when’s Kevin getting here?”

Kevin chooses that moment to burst in through the golden double doors and rush over to their table, collapsing into the chair next to Jughead. Jughead raises his eyebrows as Kevin starts stuffing his face with dinner rolls, moaning in pleasure and ignoring the disgusted looks from neighboring patrons.

“My god, this movie is killing me,” Kevin starts, seemingly oblivious to the way Cheryl’s glaring at him. “The script is so unoriginal and the hours are so unreasonable. I haven’t called Moose or Reggie in weeks.”

Toni gives him an unimpressed look. “But you’ve been texting them nonstop?”

Kevin sighs dramatically. “Only when I have the time! God, I’m so overworked.”

Cheryl opens her mouth, probably to say something snarky, but Jughead beats her to it.

“Kevin, you’re an A-list actor who lives in a mansion that’s way too big for you. You have not one, but _ two _ boyfriends who are both somehow interested in dating you,” Kevin opens his mouth to say something but Jughead’s not done, “Shut up. Your life is fantastic. No more complaining.”

Kevin rolls his eyes (him and Cheryl, twins those two), but doesn’t say another word about his own life. Instead, he lays into Jughead and makes him immediately regret all of his life decisions, but the decision to come here in particular.

“I heard you and Andrews reunited,” Kevin says slyly, reaching for another roll as Cheryl puts her hands in front of her in an “I mean business” look. “So why don’t we talk about that instead?”

Toni mutters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like “Finally” but Jughead chooses not to dwell on it. He rips another roll in half and takes a bite, shrugging.

“Not much to talk about, really. We met, we talked, we had coffee. Nothing special.”

Kevin nods slowly, resting his chin in his hand. “Okay, okay, so when can I tell Betty that Jarchie is back together?”

Jughead rolls his eyes (he’s turning into Cheryl, help). “We’re not back together, Kevin. And don’t call us that.”

Cheryl butts in, “But you’re totally _ going _ to get back together. I know it. Honestly, you two were more obvious than Betty and Veronica.”

“They were never together,” Jughead points out, and Cheryl waves her hand in a dismissive gesture (and rolls her eyes, but that was implied).

“Details,” she says. “They were in love, that’s enough.”

Jughead sighs, because he can’t argue with that, and takes a sip of his disgustingly expensive wine. It tastes like piss, but he’s not about to tell Cheryl that.

Luckily Toni is the next to speak, and her words are much gentler than her girlfriend’s or Kevin’s.

“But he writes you all those songs,” she says softly. “And you write all your books about him. It’s been nine years, Jug.”

Jughead shrugs. “So?”

Toni lays her hand over his and though he glares, she doesn’t pull away.

“So maybe you should think about taking a chance. I mean, Betty and Ronnie are on a trip abroad together. Archie and Veronica’s divorce is imminent.”

Jughead doesn’t say a word, not daring to hope but not wanting to refute it. Cheryl and Kevin nod in agreement with Toni and Jughead takes another sip of the piss wine.

“Whatever. Can we go back to making fun of Kevin?”

“Hey!” Kevin protests, but soon enough they’re all laughing at his expense anyway.

**there’s not a day I don’t miss those rude interruptions**

_ Archie, _

_ The other day I bought your first album. You’re amazing, you know that? You really are. _

_ My favorite song is _ On Your Finger _ . I love all of them, I really do, but that one is my favorite. _

_ It’s so sad, you know. I know it’s a song that’s about how you’ll never marry me, so it should be sad, but you will marry me. One day. At least, I hope you will. _

_ I haven’t so much as looked at anyone else since we broke up. It’s been four years, but all I can think about is you, and how wonderful being with you was. It’s nice to know you’re still thinking of me too. _

_ I know we never danced much, because we’re both so bad at it, but I danced to all your songs. _

_ I danced to our pain, and I imagined you were dancing with me. _

_ Jughead _

**and I’ll go sit on the floor**

**wearing your clothes**

“Hey, Juggie,” Archie says when he opens the door. “Ronnie’ll be home in a few hours, so I’ve only got a little time, but every minute counts, right?”

Jughead knows his fingers twitch by his sides at the casual mention of Veronica, but he chooses to ignore it and offers Archie a sarcastic smile.

“Only if you’ve got food. Which way’s the kitchen?”

Archie laughs and follows Jughead through the house, giving directions along the way.

“Left. Right. Right. Left. Right. Up on the left.”

Jughead digs through Archie’s freezer for the vanilla ice cream and shoves as many scoops as he can into the blender while pretending he doesn’t feel Archie’s eyes on his back.

“Here,” he says as he hands over the homemade milkshake, and Archie’s eyes crinkle at the corner as he smiles and takes a sip.

“Thanks, Juggie,” he says, all soft like it’s a secret, and Jughead ducks his head, cheeks tainted pink. He shrugs.

“No problem. What were you doing before I came over?”

Archie freezes. The tension seeps out of his shoulders slowly as he forces himself to relax, saying nonchalantly, “Reading.”

Jughead raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t comment. “Cool. Anything I might’ve read?”

Archie shrugs, looking down. “Dunno. Do you read your own books?”

Jughead forces himself to keep moving, to lean against the counter across from Archie and drink from his own lumpy milkshake.

“Sometimes. I’m surprised that you do, though.”

Archie looks away, fidgeting with his straw.

“C’mon, Jug. I’ve bought every book you’ve ever written. You have to know that.”

Jughead tries to force air into his lungs, taking in the sorrowful expression on Archie’s face.

“No, not really.”

Archie offers him a sad smile. “Well, I wouldn’t have expected you to have bought any of my albums, but I do try and keep up with you, y’know. I missed you.”

Jughead’s eyes darken.

“All of them,” he hisses, the words harsh and cutting. “All of them, Archie. Every. Single. One.”

Archie’s lips part in surprise and Jughead sighs, setting his milkshake down on the marble.

“You think you’re the only one that’s missed this?”

Archie shrugs, looking down at his milkshake and stirring it with his straw.

“Kinda, yeah. I mean, I called you all the time, and you never picked up.”

Jughead laughs, running a hand through his hair and then readjusting his beanie.

“God, Archie. I couldn’t.”

Archie cocks his head, confused, and Jughead offers him a sad smile.

“I came to New York for you. Two years after the airport. I saw you with some girl in a cafe and figured you’d moved on, so I left you alone.”

Archie’s eyes are wide. His fingers tighten around his milkshake.

“You came to New York for me?”

Jughead smiles, shrugging.

“Yeah, Arch,” he says, voice soft. “I’d have gone anywhere for you, if you’d just asked.”

Archie reaches across the table and grasps Jughead’s hand. Archie’s wedding ring kind of ruins it, cold and uninviting against Jughead’s skin, as if to say _ this moment does not belong to you. This hand does not belong to you. _

And Jughead knows that so he murmurs, “Take off your ring.”

Archie does, recapturing Jughead’s hand almost immediately, watching him with desperate eyes.

Jughead keeps his face carefully blank, but squeezes Archie’s hand lightly.

They lapse into silence, unsure what to say.

_ Write My Name _ 2027  \- #13: “The Ring I Wear”

**Verse 1**

I married Veronica today

And I know you probably heard about it

So this is my apology

Even though if you were here

You’d tell me you don’t care

That’s a lie I know

**Chorus**

The ring I wear now

It’s a promise to her I keep for you

I’d break it in an instant if you asked

But you’ll never ask

The ring I wear now

It’s a promise of forever I think I regret

I’d break it in an instant if you asked

But you’ll never ask

**Verse 2**

I married Veronica today

And I know you probably read about it

So this is my apology

Even though if you were here

You’d tell me you’re happy for me

That’s a lie I know

**Chorus**

The ring I wear now

It’s a promise to her I keep for you

I’d break it in an instant if you asked

But you’ll never ask

The ring I wear now

It’s a promise of forever I think I regret

I’d break it in an instant if you asked

But you’ll never ask

**Bridge**

I married Veronica today

And I know if you were here

You’d say that you don’t love me

That’s a lie I know

Cause today I married Veronica

Promising I don’t love you

And that’s a lie you know

**Chorus**

The ring I wear now

It’s a promise to her I keep for you

I’d break it in an instant if you asked

But you’ll never ask

The ring I wear now

It’s a promise of forever I think I regret

I’d break it in an instant if you asked

But you’ll never ask

**all that I know is that**

**I don’t know how to be something you miss**

_ Archie, _

_ Today was… I don’t know, not horrible. I mean, anything with you is more than that, but I’ve never been able to put it into words. It’s hard to explain what being with you is like, since I’ve never had to before. You always understood. _

_ When I asked you to take off your ring, I didn’t think you actually would. I mean, you said you would. A month after you married Veronica, you put that song, _ The Ring I Wear _ , last on your fifth album. As if hoping nobody would hear it but me. _

_ How did Veronica feel about that? To know that for all the time you spent with her, you’d give it all up in an instant to be with your best friend, who you hadn’t seen in eight years. I bet she loved that. _

_ But thanks anyway. For loving me after all this, even though I’ve never said the same back. Even though I can’t admit it. _

_ I don’t believe in fate, you know. Soulmates and all that bullshit. But you always make me reconsider. _

_ Jughead _

**never thought we’d have a last kiss**

**never imagined we’d end like this**

Jughead’s manuscript is coming along slowly.

He sighs as he pulls back from his laptop, slumping back in his desk chair and pressing his palms into his eyes. It might be the fact that he hasn’t slept in twenty-seven hours.

He wanders into the kitchen to make himself another cup of coffee, but trips over his coffee table and falls onto the couch. His eyes slip shut on instinct as his head hits the cushion, and he can’t bring himself to open them, much less get up.

It takes him a few minutes to figure out he’s sleeping and hasn’t just gotten up in a daze, because his dreams have transported him not to a fantastical world but to his own kitchen, a mere ten feet away.

He looks around for anything out of the ordinary, but there’s nothing there, just his kitchen as it’s always been. He shrugs and goes to the coffee machine, figuring that if he’s useless in real life maybe he can get some work done here. (Dumb, yes, but he’s so _ tired _.)

As he reaches for the bag of coffee mix, fiddling with the machine’s settings, something glints out of the corner of his eye, and he looks over at the hand holding the bag.

There’s a silver ring there, with a black snake etched into it. Jughead’s lips part in surprise and he drops the coffee, spilling brown dust all over the floor. He staggers back into the counter, holding his shaking hands out in front of him.

“Jug?”

He looks over at the doorway, where Archie stands with a concerned look in his eyes as he watches Jughead, whose own eyes flick to the ring on Archie’s left hand. Silver with a black design carved into it.

As Archie comes closer, Jughead sees that the black spells out the letters _ A.J.A. _

Archie takes Jughead’s right hand, where Jughead just now notices another ring sits, identical to Archie’s with the exception of his saying _ J.J.A. _

“Juggie? You alright?”

Jughead finally looks up at Archie, whose other hand is caressing Jughead’s cheek.

“A-Archie?” Jughead stutters, and Archie cocks his head.

“Yeah?”

“What’re -” Jughead swallows. “What’re the letters for?”

Archie gives him a quizzical look, brushing his thumb over Jughead’s ring, but answers anyway.

“Our initials.”

Jughead shakes his head, pulling away and turning his back to Archie.

“No. No. My initials are J.J. and yours are A.A. There’s no A in mine and no J in yours -”

He cuts off as he realizes what the letters mean.

“We’re - we’re married?”

Archie’s arms wrap hesitantly around Jughead’s waist, hooking his chin on Jughead’s shoulder. He kisses Jughead’s neck and Jughead brushes his hands over Archie’s, too shocked to move.

“Yeah, Juggie. For nine years.”

Jughead closes his eyes and wakes up.

**your name, forever the name on my lips**

_ Archie, _

_ I had a dream today that we were married. When I woke up, I immediately started writing this letter, because I knew I had to remember it. Some part of it will probably end up in my next book, which is coming along horrifically slow, by the way. _

_ I’ve never told you, because it never came up, but my next book? It’s about these two boys who were best friends in high school. They fell in love, but never acknowledged it, and instead went their separate ways after graduation. They both move to New York City, one to try his hand at acting and the other at directing. They meet up again on the set of a movie nine years later, and the actor, Andy, is married to a beautiful popstar named Vanessa while the director, Jordan, has been dating a police officer, Brianne, for the past five years. Despite this, they start falling in love again. _

_ I’m not sure how it ends yet. I’m rooting for Andy and Jordan to finally get a chance with each other, but maybe that’s unrealistic. Maybe they’ll both realize that they never really had a chance anyway. _

_ What do you think? Should I give Andy and Jordan a happy ending, or is Andy going to stay with Vanessa while Jordan lives a mediocre life with Brianne? _

_ It’s up to you, Archie. I’ll write whatever you ask me to. _

_ Jughead _

**so I’ll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep**

Cheryl shows up at Jughead’s house five days after the dream to make sure he’s still alive.

“Honestly, Jones,” she says, barging past him as soon as he opens the door. “You’d think you had dropped off the face of the earth. I have more contact with _ Betty _ than you, and I haven’t talked to her in a _ month _.”

Jughead blinks, then closes the door and follows her into the kitchen where she’s digging through his cupboards.

“Care to tell me why you’re raiding my kitchen?” He says, his tone coming off more dumbfounded and less sarcastic than he’d hoped. Cheryl doesn’t stop, opening a new cupboard and shuffling through its contents.

“Do you have _ any _ alcohol in here? You can’t tell me that you’re out, because I heard from Toni who heard from Betty who heard from Kevin who heard from Reggie that you were at the liquor store last Saturday, and I know you’re a lightweight so you can’t have drank all of that in a week and a half.”

Jughead rolls his eyes. “I was at the liquor store for some cheap beer for Archie and I. We were having movie night at his house and I let him keep the leftovers. Sorry to disappoint.”

Cheryl slams the cupboard shut and turns to him, hands on her hips and hair flying behind her. She raises an unimpressed eyebrow and Jughead sighs.

“The good wine’s in the basement by the Edgar Allen Poe.”

She flashes him a devilish smile as she brushes past him, grabbing his hand and pulling him along with her.

“Great. You know it’s weird that you have so many of that dude’s books? All he writes about is death.”

Jughead shrugs, not fighting her grip.

“I like death.”

Cheryl looks over her shoulder at him and rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, right. After all the shit we went through in Riverdale and all those romance books you’ve written, you expect me to believe that old ‘oh look at me I’m so morbid and gothy’ act? That’s so nine years ago, Jug.”

She lets go of his hand to grab a bottle of blood red wine and then takes it again to drag him up the stairs, plopping onto on the couch and pulling him down with her.

She pours them each a glass and raises hers in a toast.

“To being better than deadbeats.”

Jughead nods and clinks his glass against hers, despite not really understanding her toast, since he is very much a deadbeat.

“Why are you making me drink at two on a Wednesday?” He asks after taking a sip of the surprisingly not bad wine, and Cheryl shrugs.

“Had nothing better to do. Toni’s working the register and kicked me out -”

“Why?”

“She says I was whining,” Cheryl scoffs. “As if.”

Jughead decides not to comment. (He’d like to live.)

“Anyway,” Cheryl continues, shaking her hair out like a bird ruffling its feathers, “Kevin’s finally got a week free to visit Reggie and Moose and threatened me with no gossip for a month if I bother him. Betty’s not answering her phone.”

Jughead takes another sip of wine and purses his lips as he pulls the glass away from his mouth.

“So you thought you’d come bother me?”

Cheryl stares at him as if he’s asked a dumb question and nods.

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

Jughead shrugs.

“I don’t mind so long as you don’t bring up Archie.”

Then he freezes, glass halfway to his lips.

_ Shit. That was stupid. _

“Yes, it was, dear Jug.” Apparently he said that out loud. “So how is Archiekins?”

“You know he hates that nickname,” Jughead reprimands, and Cheryl rolls her eyes.

“Like I care. How are you two?”

Jughead drops his head back against the cushions with a sigh, resigning himself to the fate of talking to Cheryl Blossom about his love life for the next few hours.

“I dunno. We’re talking more. Veronica came home the other day, so there’s that. Also he held my hand and took off his wedding ring for me.”

Cheryl spits out her wine and Jughead cackles.

“WHAT?!” She screeches, gripping Jughead’s arm so tight her nails leave marks in his skin. “Jughead Jones, are you telling me that he seriously_ took off his wedding ring _ for you? Oh my god.”

Jughead shrugs, smiling at her.

“I asked him to.”

Cheryl quiets, watching him with wide eyes.

“And he did? Just like that?”

Jughead nods slowly, smile softening as he looks down at hands, imagining the ring from his dream sitting on his finger.

“Just like that.”

Cheryl squeals, hugging him and spilling wine all over his couch, but he can’t bring himself to care, laughing as he hugs her back.

“God, Jug. That’s amazing. There’s hope for you yet, huh?”

Jughead grins into her hair.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

**and I feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe**

“Haven’t seen that jacket on you in awhile,” Betty comments as soon as Jughead collapses into the chair across from her. “Are you wearing it because it’s warm or because it’s Archie’s?”

Jughead shoots her an unimpressed glare, hoping his cheeks haven’t pinkened. Archie’s lettermen jacket bunches at his shoulders when he shrugs and Betty smirks.

“So you’re wearing it because…?”

“Because it’s Archie’s, okay?” Jughead blurts. “Fine, yes, I am wearing my ex-boyfriend’s jacket because I miss him. Happy?”

Betty’s smirk widens. “Very.”

Jughead slumps back in his seat and grumbles. “It doesn’t matter. I mean, he’s with Ronnie anyway, right?”

Betty’s smirk disappears in a flash. She looks down at her hands, weaving her fingers together so tightly her knuckles turn white.

“Low blow, Jones.”

Jughead sighs, reaching over to take her hands in his. She doesn’t look at him, lips pursed in a frown, and he offers an apologetic smile.

“Hey, Betts. C’mon. We’re gonna be fine, y’know?”

She glares at him.

“Really? Our soulmates are married to each other.”

Jughead looks down at their hands, Betty’s right pointer finger playing with a loose thread on the sleeve of Archie’s jacket.

“Soulmates aren’t real, Betts.”

She scoffs, but he doesn’t know what else to say.

“Jug,” she says, longing slipping into her voice. “What else can you call it?”

_ Forgive Me _ 2024  \- #12: “Books I Don’t Read”

**Verse 1**

I won’t title them out of respect for you

Knowing you don’t want your name

Anywhere near my songs and for your books

You wish the same

But know that I have read all of them

The way you hear my songs I pray

And they stay unopened on my shelf

After I’ve read each one in a day

**Chorus**

Your books are the only ones that I don’t read

I can’t stand seeing your picture on the _ About The Author _sleeve

I always knew you’d make it but I hoped I’d be by your side

And that I could be a mention in your novelistic life

**Verse 2**

You’ll probably ask why I still care

It’s been five years, you’d laugh

But I light up tons of candles

And I read them in the bath

On our anniversary

When I can forget life for a night

And pretend I’m living with you

In these stories that you write

**Chorus**

Your books are the only ones that I don’t read

I can’t stand seeing your picture on the _ About The Author _sleeve

I always knew you’d make it but I hoped I’d be by your side

And that I could be a mention in your novelistic life

**Bridge**

If again I ever see you

I know you’ll ask about this song

And I’ll ask you how you couldn’t guess

That you have been it all along

That I still flip through pages

Of your journals that I stole

Just to see our initials

In hearts you drew in charcoal

**Chorus**

Your books are the only ones that I don’t read

I can’t stand seeing your picture on the _ About The Author _sleeve

I always knew you’d make it but I hoped I’d be by your side

And that I could be a mention in your novelistic life

**Outro**

If there ever is a life in which I don’t fuck us up

I’m hoping that this song is still around

So when I die, in a long time, you’ll wonder how I gave up

Because in that lifetime it was always you I found

**and I keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are**

_ Archie, _

_ Your second album came out today. My book, _ you blinked. _ , came out three days ago, and I wondered if you bought it. You answered that in your music, in your newest collection that I’ve been playing on repeat since I got home. _

Books I Don’t Read_ ? That’s a little on the nose, even for you, but I guess at this point people have already guessed that the person you’re writing to is an author. _

_ I suppose thanks are in order. You’ve never mentioned my name, and for that I’m grateful. I don’t want the tabloids digging into our relationship. I like those memories how they are - only ours and no one else’s. _

_ I wish you read my books more than once. I listen to your songs all the time, drunk on your voice, and I wish you were drunk on my words. _

_ I used to be drunk on you, but those times are over now. I’d like to say I’m proud of being sober, but I’ve never missed you more. You were addicting, alluring, and I’d’ve gladly died of alcohol poisoning if my drink of choice was you. _

_ Morbid romantic analogies, I know. So you’ve said again and again, but you’d always kiss me afterwards, and I like to imagine that you would now too. _

_ Jughead _

**hope it’s nice where you are**

“I can’t believe you keep dragging me out to these things,” Jughead complains as Cheryl drags him out of his house by the hood of his sweatshirt (well, Archie’s, but nobody but Jughead needs to know that). “I don’t even like you people.”

Cheryl rolls her eyes, shoving him into the backseat of her car next to Betty before getting in the driver’s seat next to Toni herself.

“You love us. Besides, what else are you doing with your pathetic life? Writing love letters to Archiekins?”

“_ No _,” Jughead says, but slumps back in his seat in defeat, grumbling curses under his breath. Betty pats his thigh.

“By the way,” Toni cuts in, voice soft. “Reggie and Moose are coming today too, so expect a lot of PDA.”

Jughead groans, dropping his head back against the leather.

“Great. More disgusting couples to make me feel bad about my single-pringle-ness.”

Cheryl rolls her eyes.

“You’ll be back with the Red Paladin in no time, honey. Stop whining.”

“It’s been nine years -”

“So what if you have to wait a couple more weeks? God, you’re so dramatic. Toni? Tell him he’s dramatic.”

Toni shoots him a sympathetic look.

“Sorry, Jug. You’re dramatic.”

Jughead rolls his eyes, but squeezes Betty’s fingers when she takes his hand and lays her head on his shoulder.

Cheryl spends the rest of the drive talking about something that Jughead pretends to listen to. Betty whispers bad dad jokes in his ear, so that halfway makes up for it, and Toni mostly just looks apologetic for her girlfriend.

When they get to the venue (some snobby-looking five-star place that Cheryl heard about from a guy in a fancy suit that wandered into the record store on his lunch break), Cheryl waltzs right past the maitre d’, not checking to see if they’re following her (not that Toni has a choice; Cheryl hasn’t let go of her hand since they got out of the car).

They’re waved over to a table in the corner by Kevin, squeezed into one of those obnoxiously large circle booths in between Reggie and Moose. Cheryl shoves herself and Toni in next to Moose, leaving Jughead to settle next to Reggie, Betty a comforting presence beside him.

“How’ve y’all been?” Kevin asks, excited, and his arms twitch with the urge to gesture wildly along with his words, but his hands are trapped in one of Moose’s and Reggie’s respectively. Jughead rolls his eyes at the sight.

“Fine,” he bites out, and Betty murmurs a soft, “Good,” while her eyes flicker over Jughead worryingly. Toni smiles, kissing Cheryl’s cheek, and Cheryl grins, answering loud and bright.

“Amazing, darling,” she drawls, drawing out each syllable. “Absolutely wonderful, how about you?”

Jughead rolls his eyes and mutters, “Fucking fantastic, Cher,” under his breath, sinking down in his seat and hoping she doesn’t hear his answer to the question she asked Kevin. He waits for Betty’s fingers to tighten around his, but instead another’s comforting hand settles on his lower back.

He shoots a shocked look at Reggie, who gives him a crooked smile. Jughead turns away, glancing around the table at his friends.

Toni and Betty are deep in conversation, eyes twinkling as they talk about some new artist they’re really looking forward to seeing. Cheryl’s smiling at Kevin in that way she only does when she thinks no one’s looking, and Kevin is laughing and playfully shoving at Moose’s chest as the latter peppers kisses into Kevin’s hair.

Jughead thinks of Betty’s fingers tangled in his and Reggie’s hand on his back and smiles to himself, thinking that even if Archie and Veronica never come back to their little group, even if Archie and Veronica stay together, even if he dies without ever kissing Archie Andrews again…

He’ll be okay.

He can be happy as long as he has this.

_ Drive-In Expectations _ 2026  \- #4: “Soulmates”

**Verse 1**

You hated when I called you Princess

But I tattooed it over my heart so you’d know

You’re all I want forever

And all I need for longer

And I’m hoping that you’ll never let me go

**Chorus**

You were meant to be mine

In every universe, you’d say

Every earth, every timeline, every lifetime

In every body, every mind, every soul

In every sense of the word

You were meant to be mine

And I was meant to be yours

**Verse 2**

I hated when you called me Superman

But you tattooed it over my heart so I’d know

I’m all you want forever

And all you need for longer

And you used to say you’d never let me go

**Chorus**

You were meant to be mine

In every universe, you’d say

Every earth, every timeline, every lifetime

In every body, every mind, every soul

In every sense of the word

You were meant to be mine

And I was meant to be yours

**Bridge**

I’d fly to your side in an instant

If you ever called my name

I’ll be your superhero, baby

I’ll save all of your days

You’d be my pretty princess

Leading an army of snakes for me

Rain hell down on the earth

To see me smile gratefully

**Chorus**

You were meant to be mine

In every universe, you’d say

Every earth, every timeline, every lifetime

In every body, every mind, every soul

In every sense of the word

You were meant to be mine

And I was meant to be yours

**and I hope the sun shines**

**and it’s a beautiful day**

_ Archie, _

_ Your fourth album came out today. _ Drive-In Expectations _ ? What exactly did you expect to happen there? You know what it was like - we’d hold hands and kiss when no one was looking and not pay because I was the projectionist. Though I always let you pick the movie. _

_ You usually picked some shitty horror flick because you knew I loved those. Though I should probably confess - I less loved the movies and more loved how long we’d be awake afterwards, because you were always scared even though you always said you wouldn’t be. And I loved how you’d curl into my arms, asking me to hold you, even though when the sun came up it was back to pretending we were just friends. _

_ Sometimes I wonder if you’d pretend we never happened, should we ever see each other again. If you’d just brush off all our years together like it was nothing, like it didn’t kill you to say goodbye. I know I’m not the only one whose heart broke that day. _

_ Do you still have your tattoo? Princess, right over your heart? Because I still have mine. Superman, over my own heart like I was born with it. Remember how we used to pretend I was? That you were too? That we were soulmates, pushed together by fate? _

_ I guess not. It’s not like _ I’m Gonna Marry Her _ is subtle, Archie. God, and I almost thought that maybe I could call you. After seven years, I was going to call you. Tomorrow, even. _

_ That’ll never happen now. This is goodbye for good, if you marry her. I can’t go on hoping if you’re going to tie yourself to her forever, like you pretended to do me. _

_ If you’re really still my Superman, Archie. If I’m really still your kryptonite. If you really still love me, then don’t marry her. Don’t marry her. _

_ Marry me. Marry your Princess. I’m still wearing that beanie. I’m still dreaming of that ring. I’m still sleeping in your letterman jacket. _

_ Rescue me, Superman. I won’t keep waiting forever. _

_ Jughead _

_ Forgive Me _ 2024  \- #11: “Kryptonite”

**Verse 1**

I know I’ve never actually read a comic book before

Though you left plenty at my house that I’d slip underneath your door

But I’d hope I was your Superman

And that I could save your day

And maybe your entire life if you let me have my way

**Chorus**

Superheroes all have weaknesses they try to hide

It didn’t take too long before I realized you were mine

The Winter Soldier for whom I dropped my shield

The Catwoman to whom I’d always yield

My lover and my enemy all at the same time

So if I was Superman, then that made you my kryptonite

**Verse 2**

I still haven’t read a comic book to this day

I haven’t found a store with them that isn’t covered in my face

I wish I had a secret name

And a secret life as well

So I could read a comic book without thinking I’m in hell

**Chorus**

Superheroes all have weaknesses they try to hide

It didn’t take too long before I realized you were mine

The Winter Soldier for whom I dropped my shield

The Catwoman to whom I’d always yield

My lover and my enemy all at the same time

So if I was Superman, then that made you my kryptonite

**Bridge**

I’d gladly let you kill me if I knew you were alright

I’d gladly give up daytime if I knew you lived at night

I’d gladly give my everything for you to be my one

And I’d gladly shun the moon if all you wanted was the sun

**Chorus**

Superheroes all have weaknesses they try to hide

It didn’t take too long before I realized you were mine

The Winter Soldier for whom I dropped my shield

The Catwoman to whom I’d always yield

My lover and my enemy all at the same time

So if I was Superman, then that made you my kryptonite

**and something reminds you**

**you wish you had stayed**

“Hey, Archie,” Jughead says when the man in question opens the door, and Archie smiles, wide and bright. Jughead can’t help but return it.

“Hi, Juggie,” Archie says, turning and walking into the house. Jughead follows him, not sure what else to do, and closes the door behind himself, dropping the cheap beer on the kitchen counter as they pass by.

“What’re we doing today?” Jughead asks, glancing curiously into every room they pass, because though he’s been to Archie’s unnecessarily large house at least ten times at this point, there are still rooms he hasn’t seen.

“I figured we’d play video games,” Archie says, shrugging as he leads Jughead into a room resembling a den.

A blue couch is pushed against one wall across from a gigantic flatscreen TV. The walls are covered by towering bookshelves filled top to bottom with video games and books, mixed together with seemingly no organization. The only lights in the room are white Christmas lights strung around the top of the shelves, and the roof is pure glass squares, shedding the room in moonlight.

Archie pats the couch beside him, shaking Jughead out of his trance. “C’mon.”

Jughead smiles shakily and sits down, picking up the second controller and laughing as the game’s spinning logo appears on the loading screen.

“LEGO DC? Arch, really?”

Archie grins at Jughead’s obvious delight and Jughead smiles back, selecting Batman as his avatar. He waits for Archie’s avatar to show up on the screen, but when it doesn’t, he glances over at Archie, opening his mouth to ask if there’s a problem with the controller.

Instead he sees Archie’s thumb frozen over the select button, cursor hovering over Superman on the screen. His eyes can’t seem to tear away from the smiling superhero, fingers scratching absentmindedly over the spot on his chest that Jughead knows holds the mark _ Princess _, permanent and meaningless now.

“Just click the button, man,” Jughead says softly, and Archie’s eyes snap to him. Jughead offers a crooked smile, hoping he’s successful in keeping the sad longing out of his expression.

“You sure?” Archie asks tentatively, as if what Jughead wants matters, and Jughead nods, forcing his smile to widen.

“Yeah, Arch,” he laughs. “You were always Superman, remember?”

Archie’s eyes are pleading. For what, Jughead can’t say.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I guess.”

Jughead swallows, heart shaking in his chest, and reaches out subconsciously with a trembling hand.

Archie doesn’t flinch as Jughead’s fingers touch his cheek, thumb brushing over Archie’s bottom lip.

Jughead stares at Archie’s mouth as Archie watches Jughead’s face, waiting for the trance to break, but it never does.

“Jug,” Archie whispers, as if trying to beckon him closer, to finish it, _ finish it _, but Jughead flinches back as if he’s been burned, grabbing the controller and slamming the start button all in one spastic movement.

“Sorry, uh,” Jughead stutters, nearly dropping the controller with how bad his hands are shaking. “Let’s, um, play.”

After a moment of silent staring, Archie nods, and they play the level in silence for the first few minutes before Jughead cracks a joke and they start letting their competetive streaks out, accompanied by carefully deployed humor.

When Jughead wins, killing Archie’s character in a last minute move and finishing the game, he whoops in victory, laughing when Archie throws the controller down in mock rage. Archie grins at Jughead’s open mirth and tackles him onto his back on the couch, Jughead laughing as he struggles to get away.

As they wrestle, Jughead’s arms end up somehow around Archie’s neck, and Archie’s wind up wrapped around Jughead’s waist. When Jughead realizes this, he goes quiet, carding his fingers through Archie’s hair, and Archie stops laughing, watching Jughead with curious eyes.

Jughead’s own eyes flick down to Archie’s lips, and then his chest, pulling Archie’s V-neck collar to the side to reveal _ Princess _, bold and black against Archie’s flushed skin.

He presses a hand over it, feeling Archie’s heartbeat beneath his fingers, slightly faster than normal. He looks up and meets Archie’s eyes upon feeling fingers pull down his own collar and a palm come to rest over _ Superman _ on his heart.

Jughead opens his mouth but no words come out, heart caught in his throat and beneath Archie’s hand, and then Archie leans down and presses his mouth to the corner of Jughead’s.

Jughead closes his eyes, ignoring the sirens going off in his brain, and turns his head to cover Archie’s mouth with his, kissing him like it hasn’t been nine years since that last happened.

They kiss like that, slow and languid, Jughead’s hand slipping up from Archie’s chest to his cheek. After a few minutes, Jughead manages to forget where they are, awakened only by Archie’s hand slipping from his chest and around his back.

Jughead wonders if this is how Veronica feels, kissing Archie.

His eyes snap open.

_ Shit. Veronica. _

He pushes Archie off him, ignoring Archie’s startled shout, and scrambles for the door, thankful that he chose not to take his converse off when he arrived. He grabs his leather jacket from the coat hanger and pulls his keys from his pocket with trembling hands, wrenching the door open and stumbling outside.

“Jughead, wait!”

Archie’s fingers close around his arm, pulling Jughead back and to his chest, his other arm wrapping around Jughead’s waist. His eyes are wild, desperate, as Jughead struggles to get away from him.

Archie leans down and captures Jughead’s lips in another kiss, one that Jughead can’t help but melt into, going limp in Archie’s arms.

When Archie pulls back, they’re both breathless, and Archie presses his forehead against Jughead’s.

“I love you, Jughead.”

It’s a whisper, a plea, and Jughead allows himself a moment of weakness, closing his eyes before he feels his heart break.

“You’re married,” he whispers back, pulling away and turning towards his car. “Goodbye, Archie.”

Archie’s arms fall limply by his sides and Jughead swallows, holding his head high and his mouth in a straight line as he gets in the car and turns the key in the ignition, driving away. He doesn’t look back in the rearview mirror.

At least, not more than once.

**you can plan for a change in weather and time**

**but I never planned on you changing your mind**

_ Archie, _

_ As soon as I got home last night, I cried for forty-five minutes straight. It was embarrassing, and stupid, because you broke my heart nine years ago so it shouldn’t hurt so much the second time. But this time somehow hurt worse. I could feel my heart split, Archie, with those words. _

_ “I love you.” _

_ You don’t get to say that to me. Not anymore. Not after so many years of radio silence, of no contact. I know you tried to call me. I know you wrote me songs. But it doesn’t change the fact that you left me in Riverdale. It doesn’t change the fact that you never came back to drag me to New York with you. It doesn’t change the fact that you married her, that you promised to love someone else forever, that you swore to the world you had moved on from me. _

_ Then explain that kiss. Explain those words. Explain the way you looked at me, like your heart was breaking, when I know you could feel mine doing the same beneath your hand. _

_ I’m still your Princess. Goddamnit, Archie, I’m still your Princess, even after all these years of me waiting at my window for Superman. Don’t tell me you tried to rescue me, because you didn’t. If you had tried, even for a millisecond, I wouldn’t be here right now writing this letter. _

_ I’d be living out all those dreams of being your husband. Of you being mine. I’d be raising a baby with you, probably named something dumb that you loved that I agreed to go along with because it made you smile. I’d be holding your hand under the table at all those brunches Cheryl drags me to, and I’d be dancing to your songs with you in our kitchen, and I’d be kissing you on our blue couch to celebrate beating you at yet another video game and I’d be staying, not running away from your stupid puppy dog eyes. _

_ I’ve written book after book about us, love story after love story, always ending the same way. Hopeful, but not set in stone, because that’s how things have always felt with you - so close to the finish line I can taste it, despite the race never having started. I’m stuck at the beginning, watching everyone else pass me, watching all of our friends move on with their lives while I’m waiting for you to crash back into mine. _

_ Jughead _

**so I’ll go sit on the floor**

**wearing your clothes**

Jughead drags himself out of bed three days later and gets dressed to meet Betty for lunch. He’d called to cancel, but Betty had told him even before he’d opened his mouth that he was coming to lunch whether he liked it or not, because he needed to stop wallowing in self-pity and come see her. He’d rolled his eyes but agreed, knowing better than to argue.

So he pulls on a plain white T-shirt, pausing with one arm through a sleeve to touch his _ Superman _ tattoo, swallowing as he stares at it in the mirror. He puts on black jeans and combat boots too, hesitating at the door for only a minute before giving in and shrugging Archie’s letterman jacket over his shoulders.

When he gets to _ Per Say _, Betty’s waiting at a table in the back corner, almost invisible from the front door. Jughead wanders over, nodding his thanks for the cup of black coffee she pushes his way.

“Is there a reason I need to be here?” He drawls after five minutes of silence and Betty’s eyes flicking up to and down away from his face. She opens her mouth and he smirks, “Other than you being a better option than Cheryl?”

She sticks her tongue out at him but smiles nonetheless, though her eyes are worried.

“I was wondering how you were dealing with the news,” she says softly, reaching across the table for his hand. “We all were, but the girls and Kevin all thought it’d be best if I was the one who talked to you.”

Jughead cocks his head. “What news?”

Betty’s eyes widen, fingers curling around Jughead’s so hard that her nails dig into his palm painfully. He tugs at his hand, but she only holds on tighter.

“What do you _ mean _, what news?” She hisses. “It’s everywhere!”

He purses his lips in frustration, leaning across the table towards her.

“_ What’s _ everywhere, Betts?”

Her lips part in surprise, fingers loosening around his until they’re not there at all, insteading rubbing up and down Betty’s arms as she stares at him.

“You don’t know,” she finally whispers, and he shakes his head, reaching out across the table for her hands back. At the gesture, she starts shaking her head, eyes welling with tears. “Oh god, you really don’t know.”

She leans forward, taking his oustretched hands and squeezing them with a worried smile.

“When you and Archie kissed, three days ago,” she says, taking a deep breath as he starts shaking his head frantically because _ how do you know about that, I didn’t tell anyone about that, you don’t talk to Archie, oh god, oh no _-

“There’s a picture,” she murmurs, and Jughead’s heart stops. It must show on his face, because her next words are frantic, trying to reassure him.

“It’s blurry. And not well lit, because it was late at night, but you can tell you’re not Veronica. And people are starting to realize you’re a boy.”

Jughead’s breaths come faster and faster, unable to get enough air into his lungs. His ears are ringing, nearly drowning out Betty’s voice.

“They can’t tell it’s you,” she tries, voice breaking and tears starting to slip down her cheeks. “No one’s even guessed, I promise. And Archie won’t talk about it.”

Her voice softens as she stands to hug him, fingers brushing through his hair as he clutches desperately at her back, burying his face in her neck and trying to slow his heartbeat.

“You’re safe, Jughead,” she murmurs, mouth right next to his ear. “I promise, you’re safe. No one knows it’s you.”

“Except for Veronica,” he gasps out, squeezing his eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. “She’ll know it’s me. She’ll say something. She’ll… she’ll…”

Betty pulls away, shaking her head, and offers a sad smile.

“She hasn’t. And word on the street is that she and Archie broke up three days ago, only a little while after the picture was taken but way before it was released.”

Jughead’s eyes widen as Betty brushes a thumb across his cheek, wiping away a few tears.

“Archie told her?”

Betty smiles, the expression strained, and nods.

“Of course he did, Jug. You really think he could stay with Ronnie after being reminded of what it was like to be with you?”

Jughead shakes his head, arms unwinding from around Betty’s middle and instead wrapping around himself.

“Nine _ years _, Betty.”

Betty smiles, taking his face in her hands and forcing him to look at her.

“And has that stopped you from loving him?”

Jughead stares, unblinking, unable to force out what should be the answer.

Finally he shakes his head, pulling away and standing up to grab his jacket.

“I’ve gotta go, Betts. See you later, ‘kay?”

She sits back down, a sad smile gracing her lips.

“Just call him, okay? Take a chance, Jughead.”

He shakes his head, forgetting his coffee on his way out the door.

**all that I know is that**

**I don’t know how to be something you miss**

Jughead’s life falls apart in a matter of days.

He stays at home, writing new chapters of his manuscript and then deleting them. Cheryl calls him and so does Toni and so does Kevin, even Reggie occasionally, and he always presses decline. Betty shows up every once in awhile, talking to him through the mail slot when he doesn’t open the door. He lives on black coffee and leftovers once a day with a few frozen Eggo waffles thrown in when his stomach starts growling.

After a week, he runs out of food and resigns himself to needing to go to the grocery store. He doesn’t bother changing out of whichever one of Archie’s hoodies he’d thrown on last night, grabbing his keys and shoving his beanie on as he heads for the door.

When he opens it, there’s a box on his front steps. It’s the size of your typical moving cardboard box, with no return address. He kneels down in the doorway and opens it up.

A folded yellow piece of paper with Jughead’s name written on it rests on top of four piles of folded flannels. Jughead’s lips part in surprise and he reaches into the box, pulling out the red one he’d first picked up at Archie’s house that day they’d seen each other for the first time in nine years, dripping wet with coffee.

He bites down on his lip as the tears start to fall, pushing his face into the flannel as he curls his fists around the fabric. He knows how he must look, back shaking with sobs as he cries into a flannel shirt on his front steps, but somehow he can’t bring himself to care.

This is Archie’s goodbye. After nine years, after kisses and I love you’s, after dreams and rings and songs and books and calls, this is goodbye.

And Jughead could have a hundred more years, he still wouldn’t be ready for it. He’ll never be ready for it, and he knew that nine years ago when they said goodbye in that damn airport, but it’s not up to him anymore.

He takes in a wet breath that makes his chest shudder and smiles shakily into the flannel, closing his eyes and breathing in the smell of Archie one last time.

“Goodbye.”

**never thought we’d have a last kiss**

**never imagined we’d end like this**

_ Archie, _

_ I’m trying to adjust to life without you. I don’t know how to live without writing about you, so after I finish this book, I guess I’m done writing. I need to move on from you, just like Jordan needs to move on from Andy, so I won’t be writing any more books for you not to read. _

_ I know you’ll keep writing me songs, because that’s just who you are. Even though you’ve said goodbye, you’ll keep writing about me. But I’m going to stop listening now. I should’ve stopped listening years ago. _

_ I have to move on, Archie. And not like I said I would nine years ago, only to follow you to New York and never look at another person again. I have to actually move on. I can’t wait for you anymore, though I know I always said I would. _

_ I hope you find someone else to love. I hope you’re happy, and that when you marry this next person, you’ll actually mean it. I hope that if I ever see you again, you’ll smile at me, and I’ll be able to smile back without thinking about it. _

_ I love you too. I love you back. When you told me you loved me, when we kissed, I know you meant it. And you’ll never hear me say those words out loud, at least not to you, and for that I’m sorry. _

_ I’m sorry I didn’t follow you onto that plane nine years ago. I’m sorry I didn’t go into that coffee shop seven years ago. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I love you back two weeks ago. _

_ Thanks for the flannels. Maybe in a year or two, I’ll be strong enough to part with your letterman jacket and hoodies. Strong enough to live on with only your promise of Superman on my chest. _

_ Maybe in a year or two, I’ll be strong enough to live without you. _

_ Jughead _

**your name**

**forever the name on my lips**

It’s been a week and Jughead’s stopped wearing Archie’s lettermen jacket oustide. He’s trying not to wear it at all, but there’s only so little of Archie he can take.

He called Cheryl back yesterday and it actually went fine. He told her he’d meet up with her and Toni and Kevin and Betty for brunch sometime soon if she wanted, to which she responded with an enthusiastic screech and a time and place, saying she and Toni would pick him up. He’d nodded, grinning, and he’s actually looking forward to it.

He’s out grocery shopping now, because he’s realized he can’t keep up this habit of consuming only fast food leftovers and cold black coffee. Plus, he needs something to do since he can’t seem to write worth a damn.

He’s humming one of Archie’s songs absentmindedly under his breath when he rounds the corner and rams into someone else’s cart with his.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” he says, laughing at himself. “My bad.”

He can feel his cheeks warming with embarrassment and ducks his head, trying to avoid eye contact with whoever’s cart he just hit.

“It’s alright, Jug,” a voice says, soft and amused, and Jughead’s head whips up in surprise.

Veronica smiles, eyes twinkling. “My fault as much as yours.”

Jughead stares, eyes flicking to Veronica’s left hand, empty of anything, and then back up at her in shock. She laughs, reaching out to touch his shaking hand, and he grins, welcoming the hug she gives him.

“God, Ronnie,” he mumbles against her shoulder. “It’s been forever.”

Veronica laughs again, pulling away with a kiss to his cheek. “Of course it has. I married your soulmate, for god’s sake.”

Jughead’s smile disappears in a flash, and Veronica gives him a sympathetic smile, squeezing his wrist.

“I’m sorry, Jug.”

He shrugs, allowing a smile to slowly stretch across his face again.

“Not my soulmate.”

Veronica rolls her eyes.

“C’mon, Jug. You think I spent three years with Archie and never saw _ Princess _on his chest?”

Jughead blushes, ducking his head, and Veronica ruffles his hair with a smile. He looks up at her with a sheepish grin and her smile saddens around the edges, hand leaving his hair to touch his cheek.

“He’s devastated without you, y’know,” she says softly, and he smiles sadly back at her.

“I miss him too. I’m always gonna miss him,” Jughead confesses. “But I’ve gotta move on. We can’t spend eternity pining for each other.”

Veronica rolls her eyes again.

“Of course you can’t. You _ can _ , however, spend eternity _ with _ each other.”

Jughead raises his eyebrows.

“Hypocrite.”

Veronica gasps, putting a hand over her chest in mock offense.

“I’ve no idea what you mean!”

Jughead smirks. “Betty Cooper ringing any bells?”

Veronica just smiles evilly at him, shaking her pointer finger at him in a disapproving gesture.

“Nuh uh uh, not so fast, Jughead Jones,” she says. “I called Betty up the night Archie and I broke up, and we’ve been dating for a week. So I am no such thing.”

Jughead sighs in defeat.

“Fine. But I’m still not gonna call Archie.”

Veronica gives him an exasperated look, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him.

“Why?!” He opens his mouth to tell her when she shakes him again, grinning like the sun. “It’s been almost ten years and all you guys can think about is each other. Doesn’t that count for something?”

Jughead blinks, about to tell her that no, it doesn’t, when -

“I -” He rasps, then grins, glancing down at her as she watches him with a concerned expression. “I’ve gotta go.”

“What? Jughead -”

He pulls away and starts sprinting down the aisle towards the door, forgetting all about his cart and Veronica shouting after him.

**just like our last kiss**

_ Archie, _

_ “Anything for the person my heart still remembers to love.” _

_ That’s what you wrote to me, on your first album, in the third song. _ Answer My Calls _ . I want to, Archie, but it’s hard when you’re miles away and we haven’t talked in years. _

_ “Can I love you? Can I say that?” _

_ That’s what you wrote to me, on your second album, in the second song. _ Can I? _ I don’t know, Archie. Can you? _

_ “Because even in that crazy town everyone knew we were each other’s.” _

_ That’s what you wrote to me, on your third album, in the fourth song. _ Holding On _ . So am I, Archie, but we both know we shouldn’t be. _

_ “Lace your fingers through mine whenever you want. I don’t care who is watching and I don’t care who’s not.” _

_ That’s what you wrote to me, on your fourth album, in the second song. _ Fingers _ . I’ll always miss holding yours, Archie, but I can’t change the fact that they’re not mine to hold anymore. _

_ “It’s a promise to her I keep for you; I’d break it in an instant if you asked.” _

_ That’s what you wrote to me, on your fifth album, in the thirteenth song. _ The Ring I Wear _ . I never asked, Archie, not really, but I guess kissing you was enough of an invitation. _

_ “You’re all I want. You’re all I need. I promise forever to all that we are and to all that we ever will be.” _

_ That’s what you wrote to me, on your sixth album, in the fourteenth song. _ For J _ . For me, Archie, and no one else. _

_ You know, I started writing these letters years ago. The day you left on that plane. They were longer then, because I remembered more, and I still thought you might be coming back. These days, I’m starting to think more and more that you aren’t, so the letters are shorter, and I’m writing less and less of them. _

_ But today, to you, I’ll write one more. _

_ Jughead _

**forever the name on my lips**

Jughead collapses back onto his couch as soon as he gets home, pulling his laptop into his lap and typing frantically. Any spelling or grammar errors are ignored, because they can be fixed later and all that matters right now is the story, and that Jughead finishes it.

Words flit through his brain faster than his fingers can type, but he manages to remember three lines ahead at all times. His hand starts cramping after five hours, and he has to pause for a bathroom break an hour after that, but at six in the morning, the sun spilling pink and gold through his windows and ten empty coffee mugs littered around him, his trembling fingers type out the last line.

_ It may be a long, hard road to get there, but all that matters is that they will. _

_ Together. _

With that, Jughead falls back into the cushions, running his stiff fingers through his hair.

“Done,” he whispers, laughing in disbelief. “Done.”

He closes his eyes, dragging a hand down his face, and smiles, placing his laptop gingerly on the coffee table and picking up the notepad and pen next it.

“Now,” he whispers, smile widening. “Only one thing left to do.”

**forever the name on my lips**

_ Archie, _

_ I finished my manuscript. I’m calling it _ A & J _ , in honor of your sixth album _ V & J _ . _

_ As for how it ends, Jordan and Brianne break up. Andy and Vanessa do too, and Vanessa and Brianne meet in a coffee shop and hit it off right away. Andy is getting ready to leave New York, because Jordan hasn’t spoken to him since this accidental kiss they shared, but Jordan manages to catch him at the airport with only a few minutes left to spare before Andy’s plane takes off. Jordan confesses that he loves Andy, still, after all these years, but if Andy doesn’t feel the same, then he’ll back out of Andy’s life. For good this time. _

_ Andy tells Jordan he loves him too and they kiss, and that’s the end. The first happy ending I’ve ever written, and I owe it all to you. _

_ If I could go back in time and stop you from getting on that plane, I would. I would kiss you silly and tell you that I don’t care what society dictates about high school relationships, we are better than all of them and we will make it. I would hold on tight and never let go. _

_ But I can’t change it. You got on that plane. And I can never fix that, can never get us back those nine years, but I’ll be damned if I don’t get us back the next infinity. _

_ Now if you’ll excuse me, the rest I’ll say in person, because I’m running to your house now. _

_ I’m coming home, Arch. I’m coming home to you. _

_ Jughead _

**just like our last**

Archie opens up the door barely a second after Jughead knocks, eyes widening as he sees who’s standing on his doorstep.

“Juggie -” He starts, but Jughead doesn’t let him continue, shoving the letter into Archie’s hands.

“Read it,” he blurts, pulling his hands back and fidgeting with them as Archie stares at him, eyes flicking down to the letter in his shaking hands. “Read it, please.”

Jughead rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet as he watches Archie’s eyes move back and forth over the words, his lips parting towards the end, eyes snapping up to Jughead, who smiles crookedly at him.

“I love you,” he whispers, tugging at the end of his sleeves nervously. “I should’ve told you, that night we kissed, but I was stupid and I was scared so I ran away instead.”

Archie’s smiling now, eyes glistening with tears, and Jughead grins, stepping closer.

“I love you,” he says, taking Archie’s face in his hands. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Archie’s arms wrap around his waist and Jughead lets his arms fall limply around Archie’s neck, hands carding through his hair.

“I love you, I love you, I love -”

Archie swallows Jughead’s words with his lips, kissing him hard, and Jughead squeezes his eyes shut, grinning so wide he thinks his lips might split. He’s shaking with laughter, tears slipping down his cheeks as he feels Archie’s smile widen against his and hears Archie’s voice whispering into his mouth.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

  


_ nine months later… _

**kiss**

_ Archie, _

_ Good morning, love. Right now you’re sleeping next to me, oblivious to the fact that I’ve taken five pictures of you already. _

_ Cheryl called ten minutes ago to tell me she’ll be here at eleven with Toni to pick us up. She says Betty and Veronica are already on their way to Riverdale, to help our dads set up. Kevin, Reggie, and Moose are with them, along with Jellybean, who Reggie picked up from the airport last night. _

_ Right now I’m playing with my ring. The silver one, with the black snake on it. I can’t wait to wear it on a chain around my neck. _

_ I’m wearing the beanie today. I’m glad you agreed to wear the letterman jacket, or else this marriage would be off to a rocky start. _

_ This is the last letter I write to you as Jughead Jones, and the last letter you’ll get as Archie Andrews. Come this afternoon, we’re Mr. and Mr. Jones-Andrews, just like in my dream. _

_ Luckily, I don’t have to dream about marrying you anymore. It’s been a long time coming, and there were a lot of bumps along the road, but we got there. Together. _

_ I’m gonna wake you up now, Superman. I think your Princess has been waiting long enough. _

_ Love, _

_ Jughead _

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed! at least a little bit!
> 
> have a wonderful day lovelies!
> 
> :) :) :) :) :) :) :)


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